Life and stories are alike in one way: They are full of hollows. The king and queen have no children: They have a child hollow. The girl has a wicked stepmother: She has a mother hollow. In a story, a baby comes along to fill the child hollow. But in life, the hollows continue empty.

Meaning. If you're going to die, you want to find meaning in life. You want to connect the dots.

That’s where proper stories begin, don’t they, when the handsome stranger arrives and everything goes wrong?

Witches don’t look like anything. Witches are. Witches do.

Poor Petey. I’d like to say I could almost feel a tender spot for poor Petey, but the truth is I’d rather feel at the tender spot on his head and give it a poke.

I like rain and mist. I've never understood why people exclaim over bright skies and bushels of glaring sunshine.

If you say a word, it leaps out and becomes the truth. I love you. I believe it. I believe I am loveable. How can something as fragile as a word build a whole world?